Ghosts
by Becsy Lexi
Summary: We all have them, some more than others. Buffy's running from hers but as everyone knows, you can't run forever.


Disclaimer: They do not in any way belong to me! It's up to Joss and the rest to mess it all up. Author's Notes: This just sort of came to me the other day. It's a future fic, sort of AU, if you want a timeline; it's six years after 'Grave'. Distribution: Are you sure? If you want it just tell me where it's going. Feedback: Please! I'd like to know whether anyone else feels like it's missing something. But then it's probably just me; I'm like that with all my stuff. And also, try not to be too brutal!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ghosts  
  
  
  
  
  
I remember his words to me that night. The night I sent my love to hell, the night I first killed someone I loved. "In the end you're always on your own, you're all you've got." Well, Whistler wasn't wrong about that. I am alone. I guess I always was. I know what you're thinking. I had my family and my friends and my watcher.blah blah. Yes, I did have them and yes they are probably the reason I stayed alive, but it didn't keep them that way did it? My slayer world killed them. At least that's what I assume since I haven't seen them since the battle. I don't recall seeing very many people. I suppose I have seen people, saved people, but I don't really see them. I save them and move on. The slayer is all I am now; it's all I've got. The world isn't that different; I only see it that way because it's me that different. It's me that's changed.  
  
  
  
The truth is that I didn't wait around to see whether they survived. At times I struggle to remember just why. But I know it's just because I didn't want to face the idea that I really had killed them. So while I might assume they died, I knew and still know that even that is easier than actually seeing them dead.  
  
  
  
Once in a while it crosses my mind that they might still be alive but I can't bring myself to go back to see. Like I said, I'm not the same. I'm nothing like how I used to be. I used to have ties to the people around me, ties to the real world but now I don't. I live for my calling, or my calling lives for me, since that's pretty much all I do. It's been three years now and there's still no way I can see myself going back. I tell myself I'm doing what I should be doing. Being the slayer was all the council wanted me to be for so long. Well, now I am and it's all I am. I guess slayers are always alone because of how close we get to death and the kill and I suppose that that is hard to equate with normal people and normal lives, lives that go on without the daily dance with evil or any knowledge of it.  
  
  
  
I like it this way; it's simple, easy even. The slayer is pure instinct, no deep thinking required, therefore good. I travel around, I've seen a lot of the country, never really feeling the need to go elsewhere or maybe I would but money's an issue. I stay long enough in one place to get a crappy job, waitress most of the time, stay in motels, hunt, slay, save and move on. That's how it always is, and I like it this way.  
  
  
  
No thinking is good. I don't want to think about them. Giles, Xander, Willow and Anya. Dawn died fighting vampires a year before all of that happened. Even then I managed to carry on, it was horrible but I had them then. I don't have anyone of them anymore. I don't suppose the spectre of their deaths that follows me around counts as a companion. Simply a dark venomous cloud, that trails along behind me as a constant reminder. Waiting to envelope me in its misery tainted billows and never let go. These are my ghosts. Their deaths hang over my head as something I should have prevented. When I think that maybe they're alive I know I'm only really kidding myself.  
  
  
  
I knew they were dead, why else would I have left, really?  
  
  
  
I changed in that moment, when the truth came to me. I wasn't ever going to be the same so what was the point in pretending I was? We all have ghosts. We all have a history. Most people don't have as bloody or as death filled a history as I do but the history remains none the less. Ghosts torment and haunt all people as they try to move on, as they try to live. Okay so what I've been doing isn't exactly living, more like I'm on autopilot but that's fine for me. I don't want to feel very much of anything. Don't want to feel the gut wrenching grief that was waiting to consume me as I wallow in my own self-pity and despair. Keeping it at a distance works for me.  
  
  
  
The slayer does not walk in this world. I know this now in a way I couldn't have when I was nineteen. Our world is different to everyone else's. We are alone and that's the way it's always been with us slayers. The only thing that I can bring myself to really think about is my sister slayers. The faces of past slayers often flash across my minds eye and I wonder. It doesn't make me sad or even feel morbid. They are what I am and their lives are as much a part of my past as it was theirs. Knowing them has made me stronger. I wonder whether any other slayers got to know the others as I have. Maybe it happened because I had nothing else in my head, well, nothing I wanted to think about anyway so it was blocked out and a way was made for them. A blank mind, a blank canvas painted with the lives of the past ones.  
  
  
  
It's been an education and like I said, they've made me stronger, I don't feel like I can be a better slayer. But then I think that's the kind of thinking that gets you killed and maybe it is but I don't seem to care. It's not like I want to die, that would be too easy and I know it's not what I'm meant for. Not yet anyway. I am good at what I do, no point in denying that. But that's because it's all I do, I breathe slaying and I think that sadly or annoyingly that I'd never be this good if it wasn't all I had; all I did. But then it is all I do, and I chose to be this way. What could I do if I didn't do this? Well exactly, there isn't anything.  
  
  
  
I hear I'm a legend, even more than I might have been before. The demon world fears me like no other and it makes me feel good. I wonder briefly if Giles would have been proud of this legend and then I put him and the thought aside, file it away as something I don't want to dwell on and thankfully the thought disappears into the abyss like so many others.  
  
  
  
I pause for a short moment after dusting three vampires and I smile in slayer satisfaction at my success for a second before I sense someone a little way off to my left. I try to catch a glimpse as I turn my head as if looking around for more vamps in the immediate vicinity but whoever or more likely whatever it is has hidden more stealthily in a small gathering of trees so I feign ignorance and start off towards the next cemetery the long way round, thinking I can draw whatever it is out into the open. I walk for ten minutes and know that it's still following me. Slipping in and out of side alleys is easy; maybe I've been here too long. Deciding that I'll leave tomorrow I turn around and also decide to face this thing now, it's pretty open where I am so it shouldn't be a problem. Not that there ever really is a problem.  
  
  
  
"Hurry up, I don't have all night you know." I say to the darkness that spreads out in front of me. The only relief from it is a dimming orange streetlight behind me. I roll my eyes at a slight chuckling I can hear and smile grimly at memories of demons that think they have a sense of humour. Funny, they always seem to forget the fun in their last few moments. "I have places to be, other things to maim and kill so lets just skip the pleasantries so you can get on with your death."  
  
  
  
"Are you certain I'm something that needs killing? Sounds like your slayer senses aren't what I remember." My whole form freezes as I recognise that voice. I feel the blood in my head drain away and I imagine that I look like what I remember him as, un-dead.  
  
  
  
"The winds in the wrong direction." I say faintly, mentally kicking myself for being so stupid. Why hadn't I felt him earlier? I now recognised the feeling that I got when he was near me, however faint it was. Well it's a bit late now. Other than that it was a little annoying to realise I'd let the wind carry my scent to my hunted. Normally I would be too smart for that. I start to back away, suddenly remembering why I avoid places I know he might be. How is it that he's here? Not really needing the answer I turn and run. I hear him calling me but I don't stop, I can't stop. Knowing he's behind me I don't go back to my motel, instead I keep running until I know he's not following me anymore and I rest in a booth of a sleazy all night café. Ignoring the leers I'm getting from most of the guys I try not to think about why he's here. Did he find me on purpose or was it an accident? I knew that whatever the answer was, now that he'd found me he'd try to take me back to where I couldn't go.  
  
  
  
I returned to my motel shortly after the sun had risen and with a defeated slump of my shoulders, felt him again as I closed the door. "You knew that I was here then." I said still facing the door.  
  
  
  
"I found you yes." So that answered my question. He had been looking. It was nice to think that he might still care about me.  
  
  
  
"How long have you been watching me?" I still didn't turn around, afraid of what my reaction would be when I did. I'll probably want to throw myself into his arms and I was unsure as to whether I'd be able to stop myself from doing that.  
  
  
  
"Long enough. Buffy," The way he says my name still has the ability to make my heart beat at twice it's rate. "Buffy, look at me." I turn round slowly, cursing myself for being unable to open the door and just leave. No, that would be too easy. He's sitting on the bed and it's very hard to look him in the eye. He looks the same, mostly, still gorgeous, still my beautiful Angel.  
  
  
  
"How long?" I ask, focusing on that rather than anything else right now.  
  
  
  
"Four days." He replied before standing up, still feeling his intense gaze on me I tried to resist the feelings his mere presence affected. It was easy to pretend those feelings weren't there at all when he wasn't with me, possibly thousands of miles away. But he wasn't thousands of miles away now. He took a step forward and I took an automatic one backwards.  
  
  
  
"Well, you're just in time to see me leave then." I told him keeping the emotion out of my voice as best I could. He wasn't buying it though.  
  
  
  
"Buffy. It's me."  
  
  
  
"You're point being?" I couldn't help it, something to do with the fact that I hadn't been in conversation with much of anyone in three years. The demons didn't count, that was pretty much a 'me having an amusing comment and them dying' thing. It was always pretty much the same. I was defensive from lack of communication? Yep, that was me!  
  
  
  
"Buffy, don't do this." He sounded pained, huh him pained!  
  
  
  
"And that would be what exactly?" I asked annoyed.  
  
  
  
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He paused, I heard him sigh, "Why did you run?" It was my turn to sigh then, I gave in; it was too hard to keep this up. It was one thing when you're by yourself, alone, quite another when you're faced with your soul mate.  
  
  
  
"Just because, that's what I'm good at isn't it? Running? It's easier this way."  
  
  
  
"Are you sure?" He asked gently, having moved so he was just in front of me. I shrugged my shoulders but this didn't do anything for me, as it seemed to displace the wall I'd carefully constructed around myself. I could feel it crumbling and me with it. He must have sensed this because the next thing I knew he was holding me. I wasn't sure how long it was before he moved us to sit on the bed but I found I couldn't let go of him.  
  
  
  
I suppose I was afraid that if I let go he'd disappear. However much I'd run before I knew I couldn't do the same to him now that he was right here with me. I think he knew that and thankfully he didn't seem to be in any rush to remove his arms from their reassuring embrace or to stop telling me that it was okay. Something I'd just realised. But I couldn't let go, I needed him, for all my aloneness and my self-reliance and legend; I needed him.  
  
  
  
When I woke up I knew without opening my eyes that the sun was coming through the flimsy material that was masquerading as curtains in my room. I felt Angels arms still wrapped around me and smiled, ready to go back to sleep again. I must have gone to sleep in his arms and he must have put me to bed. I smiled again at the idea of Angel undressing me, though I knew I still had my underwear on, as did he, but not much else. I snuggled closer as he stirred and I opened my eyes to find his smiling down at me.  
  
  
  
A second later when I was done smiling stupidly at him I took in the image of him in bed with me with sunlight shining on us both and I almost jumped out of bed in shock. My eyes went wide and he smiled and took my hand, placing it on his chest. His heart! Was beating! I didn't need the explanation yet. Just that he was there was enough; just that he was human was enough, for now. We had never needed many words. I simply gave him a kiss on his newly stubble covered cheek and snuggled closer again as he tightened his hold around me  
  
  
  
"That's why I was so snugly." I said slightly muffled by his chest.  
  
  
  
"Good morning to you too." He said, placing a light kiss on my head. I felt like I was in heaven. Except for the inevitability of what I'd have to do later, of where Angel would take me; home. "You okay?" He asked a while later, both of us unwilling to leave the comfort of each other's arms.  
  
  
  
"Difficult question. Yes and no."  
  
  
  
"I understand." And I think he really did. Understand that is. He knew I was happy about his humanity and about our current closeness and hopefully, about things that could happen later. But there was still this cloud hanging above me and I knew that I'd have to at least try to get rid of it. And now that I had Angel to help me, I thought that maybe I could finally face them.  
  
  
  
  
  
A thousand thoughts and what feels like as many feelings come to the surface all at once. Are brought forth from that dark place that I've been burying them in. I am not prepared for this and collapse on the still damp grass of the misty grey morning. Familiar smells, cemeteries, they all smell the same, of death, earth and sorrow. This is different; here I finally face the death I've been running from, the ghosts that have tormented me for three years. I'd forgotten how to cry until this moment, until Angel took me in his arms on this soggy ground and I let myself feel.  
  
  
  
A little later we stand hand in hand looking down on their graves and I feel a peace I haven't had in a long while. I've still got to get through some stuff but I'm dealing now and I feel better for it. I glance sideways at him and he catches my look. No words were ever really necessary where we were concerned, or where our feelings for each other were concerned. This silent exchange is all that I need. And the slight squeeze his warm hand gives mine confirms that he's there, he'll always be there because he loves me and I love him and I can't help but smile despite our present location and what I've gone through.  
  
  
  
I know that while slayers are always alone, the part of us that makes us individuals, that defines our human persona does not have to be. We can live in this world if we don't forget the ties we possess, ourselves, our humanity.  
  
  
  
And a gorgeous former creature of the night boyfriend also helps of course.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Fin. 


End file.
